


All I'm Living For

by A_Kid_Named_Hiro



Series: Tumblr Prompt Challenge [2]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 07:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13899438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Kid_Named_Hiro/pseuds/A_Kid_Named_Hiro
Summary: Promptselected byTuli-chan.





	All I'm Living For

**Author's Note:**

> **[Prompt](https://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/150232945383/imagine-your-otp-looking-up-at-the-stars-person-a)** selected by **[Tuli-chan.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuliharja/pseuds/Tuliharja)**

You're falling. 

Down, down, down, even though you're already sitting; all labored breath and a messed up head. There's bile lodged somewhere in the back of your throat and you're falling, drowning, sinking, into lonely, ugly darkness.

There's a pain in your chest that feels a lot like the pain in your shoulder, like the bullet in _his_ shoulder and the pain in your heart when you watch the Russian shoot him, helpless and horrified. 

He's falling, bleeding, not breathing, dying, oh god oh god oh god you don't even believe in god and why _would_ you when he isn't here to save you from drowning in your own darkness.

This is death and pain and a sea filled with emptiness and it's cold so cold and you're — 

_Warm._

Sudden, blinding warmth. You blink. Once. Twice. Ten fucking times and it isn't a dream, a hallucination, wishful fucking thinking.

He's here, staring at you, hazel eyes wild and desperate and so fucking _relieved._

And then, he's all over you. "Asami," he says, in a voice that cracks like he's laughing, like he's crying, like he's furious and ecstatic and _alive._ _"Asami, Asami, Asami,"_ he chants, as if he's trying to wear out the sound and the syllables of your name. 

There are so many things you want to say. You're angry. Why is he here? Why have you been away from him for so long, what the fuck were you possibly thinking, isolating him, you can't believe Fei Long drugged you, that sneaky son of a bitch, you'll have to thank him later because Akihito is _here_ Akihito is _right now_ Akihito is kissing the everloving _fuck_ out of you.

You kiss him back and it's the greatest feeling in the world. It feels like you've been drowned and dead and all the air's rushing into your lungs, filling you with blood and breath and so much _warmth._

Distantly, you hear the sound of whirring blades. Someone's voice. The pilot. Yes. You're in a helicopter. You're airborne. You don't care. None of it matters. _Nothing_ matters except Akihito, in your lap, in your arms, kissing you like some desperate, starved thing.

His backpack falls to the floor. His hoodie joins it seconds later. You help him out of his pants, his underwear, his shoes. You leave his socks on. He rips your shirt, buttons skittering to the seat, to the floor like spare change. 

His gaze falls to the bandages around your chest and he freezes. "You're hurt," he says. Heartbroken. Then, _"Who?"_ Livid. 

Your breath catches at the sight of him. The flush on his cheeks. The grim set of his mouth. The fire in his eyes. 

"It doesn't matter," you say, because it really doesn't. "They're all dead." 

_You saved my life._

Akihito looks at you like he understands. He kisses your bandage, over the spot where your heart lurks beneath, beating, beating, so frantically beating. 

_He's here, he's here, he's here._

Then, he crashes his lips against yours. Angry. Needy. Ravenous. He bites your bottom lip. 

You bite his tongue. The taste of his blood. His life. _Your_ life. It's all the same. He has saved you over and over and over. He's saving you now. 

_"Akihito,"_ you growl against his snarl. "I can't wait any longer." 

And it feels so much like déjà vu. Didn't you say this once, in a moment when you were as desperate for him as you are now?

He stares at you and everything you feel, everything you want, is echoed in his eyes, his face, his body. He reaches for the button of your dress pants. Unfurls the zip, works you out of your boxers. 

You've never been so hard in your life. 

There isn't much room in here, but he's making it work. His legs on either side of you. Knees close to your chest. His toes on the seat, raising up till he's hovering over your cock. 

Your hand snakes down his spine, his lower back, over his ass. You hesitate. You want this so bad, but you don't want to hurt him.

He tries to lower himself, but — with a great deal of willpower — you stop him. 

"Asami," he begs. "It's alright. I want you too." 

But you can't do this. He matters too much. You don't want to hurt him again. And maybe it's hope, maybe it's instinct, maybe you're just being bizarrely stupid, but you reach into the pocket of your pants that's still around your thighs and — 

Your fingers close around a tube. 

And you can't stop the laugh — sudden and too fucking loud — that erupts from your throat. 

Akihito looks startled and impatient and amused all at once. "What's so funny?" 

You retrieve the lube, dangle it in front of him. A dark grin slicks your face, mind hovering somewhere between stunned, annoyed, impressed, and _really fucking grateful._ "Fei Long really _is_ a crazy, sneaky son of a bitch."

Akihito bursts into laughter that's manic and gleeful and fond. "He's a genius," he says, eyes twinkling with delight and hunger. "But I don't want to talk about Fei Long right now."

And he's kissing you again, soft and tender and too fucking hot. 

You uncap the tube, empty nearly half of it in one squeeze. Then it's your finger, sliding between the cleft of Akihito's ass. Smearing lube all over his asshole.

You drink his pleasured gasps and hitched moans, and they're the sweetest things you've ever tasted. You slick your cock. And he's sinking down on you, this frantic, urgent thing, too fucking fast and so fucking tight, you go nearly blind with pleasure.

You lean forward, lift his leg onto your shoulder. 

Akihito, flexible thing that he is, keeps his fingers locked behind your neck and his body pressed close. 

Your hands on his back. You can feel the curve of his spine, the strength of his muscles beneath sweat-slick flesh. His body fits so perfectly against yours, like he was made with you in mind.

His cock, hot and wet with precum, trapped between your bodies. His breaths, harsh around the sound of his moans and the contours of your name.

You breathe in tandem. Your hips thrust upward and he meets you halfway, fucking himself upon your cock at a frenetic pace. 

You can't keep your lips, teeth, hands off him. It's a dangerous thing, fucking like this, like you might rip the skeleton from his skin and force your way into the marrow of his bones. You want him. 

You want him, you want him, you _want_ him.

You could plummet out of the sky right now and you wouldn't care. You wouldn't mind dying if you died in his arms.

Your hands gripping his ass, fingers digging into his flesh. You hold him against you, so close, refusing to let go. You rock inside him, and he throws his head back, a blissed-out cry on his lips. 

He comes, hard. All over your belly, and the bandages on your chest. 

You fuck him through his orgasm. His body is a feverish, clenching thing around your cock. You come violently into his slick heat. Breath leaves you in a quiet, pleasured hiss. 

Then it's mouths and hands and arms all over, around each other. You're both spent, and still, you can't get enough. It's been too fucking long. You press your forehead to his, breaths mingling. 

He clings to you, and you, to him. 

His is a smile that's familiar, content. 

In it, you read, _Yours._

  


* * *

  


You're lying on the grass, on the rooftop garden of the Bái Shé headquarters. 

He lies beside you, chattering on about stars and constellations you don't give a fuck about because, how _could_ you when he's right fucking _here?_

 _Your_ Akihito, brighter than any star, bigger than any heart, more significant than all the universes. 

"That's Orion, isn't it? Doesn't it look amazing, Asami? I wish I had my camera right now. Maybe I could borrow one…"

You look at the stars. They are nothing but bright dots to you, littered upon a canvas of a foreign piece of sky. Somewhere in Tokyo, your apartment still lies broken and unsafe. Your possessions, and Akihito's, destroyed. 

You lie here, in the home of a former enemy, in a territory that isn't yours, with your life at risk and your future uncertain. 

Akihito's voice washes over you like the gentlest of caresses; comforting, secure. 

You reach for his hand. 

You fall. 

And you're home.


End file.
